


Carry Me

by WinterEquinox



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:09:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27562060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterEquinox/pseuds/WinterEquinox
Summary: Five times Nile gets a piggyback ride from Booker, and one time that it isn't very fun.
Relationships: Booker | Sebastien le Livre/Nile Freeman
Comments: 36
Kudos: 184





	Carry Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sphinx81](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sphinx81/gifts).



> There is some sadness, but overall a happy ending. Blame @lady-writes and @sphinx81 on Tumblr. thanks to Isa (@yogurtfordinner) for the Beta work!

“Booooookeerrr… carry me?” Nile is slumped against him in the crowded pub booth. Andy has gone to the bar to close their tab, Joe and Nicky had stayed back at the safehouse to do cute husband shit. Quynh flashes her fox-like grin across the table at him, through the field of empty glasses and a pile of wing-bones.

“Your legs are not broken _ chérie _ , why do you need me to carry you?” He smirks down at the top of her head where it is leaning against his shoulder. She makes an offended sound, and shoves herself to a somewhat more vertical position to glare blearily at him.

“B’cause I  _ want you to _ . C’mon,  _ please _ ?” The exaggerated pout of her lower lip makes him snort into his glass.

“Book, gather up the newbie. She’s gonna walk in front of a bus at this rate.” Andy’s curt tone is completely undercut by the smile dancing in her eyes, and Booker rolls his own in response as Nile cheers and throws her hands up in victory.

“Fine. Let’s get out to the street first though.”

The less that is said about the awkward clambering to get her on his back, the better. Booker thinks that if he didn’t have his immortality his kidney would have taken irreparable damage from Nile’s knee on the second attempt to get her into a suitable position for the five-block walk. She is asleep before the end of the first block, soft breath puffing against his ear.

The three flights of stairs to their rooms pose an issue. The stairway is narrow, and he is worried that he’s going to clip her foot on the turn to the landing. Quynh has taken the lead to unlock the apartment door, and Andy is behind him to support Nile in case he loses his balance. Nicky smiles at him over Joe’s curls on the couch, where they are curled together watching a documentary about Mars, as he carefully makes his way across the common space to Nile’s room.

He carefully lowers her into her bed and pulls her heeled boots off before maneuvering her under the covers. She shifts and blinks slowly before smiling at him.

“You’re so comfy, Seb. Teddybear. Make a good bed.” She picks her hand up and tries to pat his arm but the move falls short, with her hand falling to his thigh instead. He freezes, unsure what to do with this information, but before he can respond she turns to face the wall and snuggles deeper into the covers. He glances around and finds the sleep bonnet that she had lectured him about one morning when he had woken her up before her alarm, and does his best to tuck her braids into the satin so that her hair is protected. 

_ “Bonne nuit, beaux rêves, mon ange.” _

********

“ONWARD, NOBLE STEED!” is the only warning he gets before Nile’s full weight is crashing onto his back. Reflexively, he grabs her knees from behind as she wraps her legs around his waist, one arm around his shoulders, and the other pointing towards the other end of the boardwalk. 

“Where are we going,  _ ange? _ ” He twists his neck so that he can see her face. She’s glowing in the sun, a piercing glinting in her nostril, her gold cross shining. 

“Funnel cakes. Then I’m going to win you a massive teddy bear at the shooting gallery.”

“You know it is rigged, right? And are you sure you need to have so much sugar if we are going to be riding on these death traps later?” He asks over the sounds of the other merrymakers flying overhead on rickety roller coasters, shrieks of children running from money pit to money pit and giggles of teenagers sneaking away from their parents. It all falls away from him as she issues the next challenge.

“Are you saying you can’t keep up, old man?”

“Where are the funnel cakes?”

He studiously ignores Andy laughing at him later as he struggles to keep the fried dough down after riding the Spyder.

********

“I fucking hate stilletos.” Booker would  _ never _ complain about monkey suits again, as long as he gets to see the vision that is Nile at a gala. Quynh and Andy lack the subtlety that some of their information gathering missions require, both prefering to lead with their fists. Nicky and Joe are good in these situations, but they are on their… 50th? Honeymoon, and  _ no one _ wants to interrupt that. So, Nile is sent in as the honeytrap, and Booker squeezes himself into another goddamn tuxedo to be her on-site support. 

Now that the mission is done, they are hiding in an office down the street from the hotel until the police presence dies down. Nile winces as she unbuckles the golden strappy sandals that he has been doing his best not to drool over all night. Her frothy mint gown barely reaches to mid-thigh and it makes her look like the embodiment of morning dew and fog being backlit by the sun. He kneels in front of her, tucking his tie into his pocket, and carefully takes a hold of her foot, applying gentle pressure to the arch and trying to massage away the pain that has built up over the past six hours of reconnaissance. 

He focuses on this self-appointed task, and not on the sounds of appreciation she gives him as they wait for Andy to give them the all-clear to return to their hotel on the opposite side of the city. Two clicks in his ear. Time to go.

Nile glares at the shoes, obviously not looking forward to putting them back on for the walk. Without a word, Booker takes the straps in one hand before turning to present his back to her. There is a brief pause before she wraps herself around him and he stands, grunting in acknowledgement of the whispered “thank you” in his ear.

********

"No way. I am  _ not _ walking through that river." Nile stands on the bank, glaring at Andy, who is already across the river with Quynh, then at Joe and Nicky, who are preparing to cross and are already ankle deep in the water, and finally at Booker, who is standing beside her. 

"Why? It’s not even fast-moving, and it's only a little cold."

"Snakes, Booker. I am not being eaten by a goddamn Anaconda. I do  _ not _ want to find out if we can survive being DIGESTED!"

"Nile, we are in Turkey, nowhere near the Amazon. There won't be any snakes."

"Not risking it. There has to be a bridge, or a boat or a goddamn vine, or  _ something. _ "

They stare at each other for a moment, and he can tell from the set of her shoulders and the tightness in her jaw that this is one argument that he would not win. He sighs and takes off his backpack, swinging it to rest on top of hers.

"What are you doing?"

"There’s no bridges for twenty miles in either direction. This is our only option. I can't carry you on top of my pack, so this is what we have to do." He moves over to a more stable part of the bank and crouches down. "Hop on,  _ petite lapine. _ "

She does, and flips Joe off when Booker curses the cold water that comes up to his waist as he struggles to keep her legs above the waterline.

********

“This is gonna be  _ awesome _ .” Booker is struggling to read the flyer that Nile is waving in his face as she leans over the back of the couch where he had been comfortably napping. 

“What is,  _ chérie? _ What is that?” He grabs the brightly colored piece of paper out of her hand as she dances around the living room. Andy looks up from the puzzle she and Quynh are putting together on the floor, some 10,000 piece monstrosity over which they threaten anyone who breathes on it wrong. Joe and Nicky come in from the balcony where they had been reading to check out the noise.

“What the fuck is a  _ Wife Carrying Championship _ ?” The grin she throws him is pure evil. 

“It’s a race. And an obstacle course. The winner gets the wife’s weight in beer and a cash prize. You have to carry me over 250 meters, consisting of sand, woods, log hurdles and a water obstacle. I already signed us up.” 

“Nile… why?” 

“FREE BEER! C’mon, you’ve given me so many piggyback rides, this time there is actually something in it for you.” She sits on the coffee table, and he can’t look at her, focusing on the flyer in his hand. He can’t tell her that there has  _ always _ been something in it for him. Seeing her happy, seeing her safe, being able to hold her in some way. 

Before he can respond Andy snatches the form out of his hand, and she and Nicky begin complaining about the inherent homophobia of the event. An hour later, it is decided. Andrew and his lovely wife Quynh, as well as Joseph and the striking Nichole will also be entering.

The day of the event is pure chaos and Booker can’t even be upset when Andy kicks his ass with Quynh thrown over her shoulder and Joe comes in third, using a bizarre hold that had Nicky’s knees on Joe’s shoulders and his arms around his husband’s waist as he dangles upside down. Andy is kind enough to share the beer with them all as they lay on the grass of the park afterwards.

********

There is blood running down his face, and the ringing is finally clearing out of his ears. He can feel the shrapnel pushing its way out of his ribs, but none of that fucking matters.

None of it matters, because Nile still isn’t moving. Her left leg is just,  _ gone _ , beneath the knee, and she is covered in cuts and  _ so much goddamn blood _ .

“Nile.” Is that his voice? That croak? “Nile. Please.  _ Please _ . Wake up,  _ mon ange. _ I can’t do this without you.  _ Please. _ ”

“ _ Booker. Report. _ ” Andy’s voice is in his ear, how the fuck had the comms survived the blast.

“Here, boss. Nile… Nile’s not moving. Her leg… she’s not  _ moving.”  _ Why hasn’t she woken up yet. She’s so  _ young _ , it can’t be her time. Not now. Not ever.

_ “BOOK. Get moving. NOW. Rendezvous point.” _ Right. Still in a hot zone. Get moving, Le Livre. He grabs Nile’s hands and does his best to maneuver her without causing any more pain, and pulls her onto his back in a horrifying mockery of the times that she cheerfully trusted him to carry her. She isn’t awake now, but there is no way that he’s going to break that trust when she needs him most. 

The five miles to the rendezvous are torture. He can’t tell if he is feeling her breathing or just desperately hoping that the movements of her body mean that she is coming to. He keeps up a steady stream of prayers and commentary--to whatever cursed god keeps them in this world.  _ Not her. Not her. You can’t make me lose her too, you fucker. _

“Seb…” He stops short and realizes that he is holding  _ two _ legs in his hands. Her arms tighten around his neck. “Seb, where are we? Did we do it?”

His knees buckle and he falls to the forest floor, dragging her to where he can see her face. No cuts, eyes bright but confused.  _ Alive. _ He sobs, and presses his lips to her forehead, eyes, cheeks, wherever he can reach.

“Please don’t leave me like that again. Please,  _ chérie, _ I can't, I can't be without you. What is the point of this life for me if you aren’t there to show me what is good in this world?”

His babbling is cut off by the warm press of her lips to his, her hands fisted in his tac vest. All rational thought leaves his mind as he responds in kind. She eventually pulls back, and he prepares himself for a rebuke for overstepping.

“I love you too, Sébastien.”

**Author's Note:**

> SORRY NOT SORRY!!!
> 
> Also, Wife Carrying is ABSOLUTELY a sport, and it is a CRIME that it is not everywhere because this shit is the funniest thing ever.


End file.
